PTSD does not equal weak

Last night, on Facebook of course, because all the good fights happen there, a family member of ours said some very hurtful and untrue things. This family member chose to equate someone who lives with PTSD to someone who is unable or unwilling to deal with the world and they then went on to say that life happens and "just don't focus on the negative". Now. I'm sure that those of you who have PTSD or live with someone who has PTSD has heard this drivel before. I'm here to say, it's pure unadulterated bullshit. It's not just bullshit, it's bullshit with a capital B-.

My husband, who is the center of my world, has PTSD and not just PTSD, but combat-related PTSD. He has flashbacks, nightmares, anxiety, depression and many other psychological issues. However, he is also physically disabled, as well. I could list all of his physical manifestations, but I think the psychological gives you a pretty good idea of what he deals with just on that end, on a daily basis. I look at that list and I think about all he has to deal with just to wake up in the morning and face the day and I think to myself, how the hell does he do it? Well, folks, inner strength is how he does it. He has an insane will to live and an insane will to overcome this beast of burden that shadows over our everyday lives. He doesn't always win the fight, though. There are some days when all he can do is sit on the couch and stare at the tv and that's okay. The universal truth is that no one wins everyday. We can only do our best.

His best is 100 times harder to meet than an average person's best. His PTSD also presents memory issues and an inability to decipher what is real and what is not. I'm sure you can see how this can lead to a whole hell of a lot of frustration. But, you know what? He does all he can do to keep that frustration from turning on us, his family. He fights every day to do things that normally people think very little about. A trip to the grocery store is fraught with all kinds of challenges. If the store is crowded, then his anxiety is amplified, because crowds and PTSD do not mix. If the store does not have exactly what we need at the time, then his frustration is amplified and not just because of the inconvenience, but because small annoyances are amplified with PTSD. If the kids are misbehaving while we shop, then his tension level is higher, because what seems like normal misbehaving kid behavior becomes an even bigger issue with PTSD.

So, no, having PTSD does not mean that a person is unable or unwilling to face the world. It means that the person who has PTSD has to fight that much harder to be a part of a world that doesn't make sense to them. PTSD alienates and it makes the person who has it have to adjust to fit in. PTSD does not equal weak. Living with PTSD means strength.

PTSD Stigma

stig·ma/ˈstigmə/

Noun:

A mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person: "the stigma of mental disorder".

Stigma. It's an interesting word, really, when you think about it. I find it interesting that the definition of stigma uses mental disorder to clarify the meaning. I've talked a bit about our experiences with family members and their reactions to my husband's PTSD, but I haven't really given clear examples of certain behaviors. I talk in a lot of angry, vague statements, which, leaves a lot of the truth out of the equation. So, here's my example of the stigma that we've experienced.


It was oh, two and half years or so ago now, my husband had just started treatment for PTSD and we had both just started to recognize the uphill battle we were in for. This, right here, was the turning point in our marriage, really. Up until this point, we had only spoken about PTSD as an abstract or a maybe. I mean, we both knew that my husband had PTSD, but we weren't actually acknowledging it or really knew anything about it. So, he had gone to a psychologist and was prescribed anti-depressants and he decided to take him. That, right there, was a HUGE step for him and I was so proud of him for taking that step.


So, he tells his parents about the anti-depressants and about his diagnosis and how hard he was struggling. The response? It was overwhelming condescension that he even dare think about taking anti-depressants, let alone really take them. I'm sure you can imagine how this made him feel, right? BUT, he took them anyway and he kept plugging away,trying to fight his demons. I can remember, at one point, his dad coming up to me to talk to me about his diagnosis and he made some vague reference to those pills, like it was something dirty, something perverted. I can remember his mother and her look of disgust every time he tried to bring up how hard he was struggling and how the psychologists felt that some of his issues were related to his childhood. Which, fuck, don't ever bring that up to them! His childhood was roses and kittens according to them and they "were the best parents they could be". Pfffttt. But, I digress.


Those anti-depressants eventually sent my sweet, struggling husband to the ER with one of those "rare, but serious side effects". The ones that are never supposed to happen? It did. I called the ambulance to come and take him to the hospital, the paramedics were in my house working on him and my kids were scared to death. I called his family to tell them and you what the response was? Well, it's just a panic attack, but the way that it was spoken, well, all I can do is shake my head with confusion and sadness. I'll never forget that night. It was one of the hardest nights of this whole experience.


After my husband came home and talked to his parents, they chose, instead of making sure he was alright and making sure that he would continue to be alright, they chose to harp on him about the medication. They chose to berate him and to tell him "I told you so", instead of loving him and assuring themselves and him, that he would be okay.


He internalized that, of course, who wouldn't? He felt like he had done something wrong in trying to help himself feel better. What kind of fucked up way to treat your son is that? BUT, it also showed, to me, at least, how widespread this stigma is.


My husband suffers from a mental disorder. It will never go away. It cannot be cured. I keep saying and I will continue to say; we face a new reality, every day. His PTSD is similar to any other long-term illness, it has changed the way that we live, forever. IT IS NOT HIS FAULT. He did not ask for this, he does not enjoy it, and really, it's not easy for any of us. We face it, though. He faces it.


He's currently in treatment and on new meds and is working towards making his life better. WITH MEDS. With the dirty, perverted pills.


I am trying to be as upfront as possible about the going ons in our lives and about the experiences we go through. I am trying to break this stigma by not treating it as a dirty secret, because it's not. People will loudly proclaim that they have cancer, or that they have some other illness and then proudly announce that they are fighters and they are survivors. And they are, make no mistake, but  my husband isn't less of a survivor or less of a fighter. He shouldn't have to hide his head in shame because he's suffering from a mental disorder.

Suicide and PTSD

Tonight, on a support page for veteran's and spouses dealing with PTSD, I witnessed a member being pushed to the edge. I saw a deliberate and thoughtless attack on an individual who was vulnerable and very clearly struggling. The person was repeatedly told that their actions were triggering to the member and that the member was not in a place where they could handle the attacker's actions. They did not care. They kept pushing. The member attempted suicide. He was life lighted to the hospital and his condition is unknown at this time. I am sad and I am angry and I am thoughtful. I am perplexed. I do not understand how a person can have so little regard for a fellow human being. I do not understand how someone could be so cold-hearted. 

This experience brings out an ugly truth; PTSD often causes people to act in ways that they wouldn't normally do. For some people, suicide becomes an option. We have faced this in our lives and it is one of my biggest fears. My husband is so brave and so strong and PTSD takes a toll. Life takes it's toll. My husband is everything to me and losing him is my greatest fear. Losing him to PTSD or losing him to his other disabilities are real possibilities. 

It's been a struggle in our lives to identify and to stay aware of PTSD triggers. One of the biggest ones, that we've found, is religion. More to the point, other people pushing their religious propaganda on us. In our family, I have seen events similar to what happened to that veteran tonight. I have seen people push their own agendas and their own ideas without regard for how it would affect my husband or my family. The best thing that we have ever done is to shut those people out of our lives and I will never regret it. My husband's health and my family's interests outweigh any other selfish agenda. 

I wish there was a way that I could wrap all of the veterans with PTSD in a protective shell and keep the evils of the world away. I wish there was a way that I could reach into their brains and fix the connections that are broken, but I can't. I want to reach out and let them know that they are not alone and they don't have to deal with their darkness alone. I walk through the darkness with my vet, at his side, where I belong and that's where I will always stay.

If you or anyone you love is struggling with suicidal thoughts, please reach out:

The National Suicide Prevention Hotline:

1-800-273-TALK (8255)

The Veteran's Crisis Line:

1-800-273-8255